Are You Gonna Be My Man?
by brilliantmemories
Summary: A night of clubbing and a supposedly thought one night stand reveals the truth of a highly unlikable couple. Desmond blames Shaun that the Templars have finally found him. *Pre AC1 & AC
1. The Deal

**Are You Gonna Be My Man?**

Chapter** One, The Deal**

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Desmond hated Thursday evenings.

The night was young and the music blared from the speakers in front of him. Desmond just wished the night would get over with, as he hated working on Thursdays. These nights were the worst of the week and he had constantly asked his boss if we could switch shifts. Every time he asked, he received a stern 'no' and a threat of docking his already low pay. So after a week, Desmond shut up and went back to his position to watch the dance floor spill over with different, colourful people. On Thursday night, Desmond would find himself being constantly asked for his name, even while he was clearly wearing his name tag on his chest. Desmond wouldn't be complaining it was beautiful women who came in every other night, but whenever it was a woman talking to him on Thursday night, they were just asking where the bathroom was or ordering a drink. No flirty conversations or leaning over the counter to let their cleavage spill out.

On Thursday, the women were only interested in the women - much to Desmond's disappointment. Thursday night was a gay night for all the local homosexuals to drop in for a fun pick up or just dance the night away in somewhere they could feel comfortable. As they got comfortable, they got confident and when they got confident, they often seemed to steer their way to Desmond. Often, Desmond rejected the men straight up while some others he felt pity for them, as they had been turned down a few other times during the night, so he declined them graceful awkwardness.

Last week, it had been old music from the 80's and now tonight, it was randomized songs from before two thousand and ten and before; everyone was tired of today's music. At the time, _Stamp on the Ground _by the_ ItaloBrothers_ was causing the people on the dance floor to jump up and down in sync, dancing as if no one else was watching them as they felt the bass line hum through their bodies. Desmond was busy behind the counter, cleaning out shot glasses with a fresh cloth. His eyes scanned the club, looking for any sort of straight lady who might have came with her friend. Or a bisexual woman – which he had a higher possibility he could persuade her into having a threesome with another woman. As he looked, his view was promptly blocked by a rather tall man who slumped into the seat in front of him.

"What'll it be?" Desmond asked monotonously as he set the clean shot glasses in a small cupboard.

"A cosmopolitan," he replied, hanging his head. _Another one of the rejected to drown his failure in alcohol,_ Desmond thought as he readied the drink.

*******

"Not here, Rebecca!" Shaun hissed as he hugged his sides. It was freezing outside but Rebecca didn't seem to mind it one bit.

"Oh please Shaun! This place is wonderful!" She grinned, putting her hands on her hips. "You owe it to me, anyways," she grinned mischievously as she knew she had Shaun trapped. She had saved his ass multiple times and was even planning on saving it a few times more before they went their separate ways in life.

"Why must you always use that excuse? We should be doing research right now instead and-"

"Ah! Not another word! You, Shaun Hastings, run yourself ragged with work. There are such things called breaks. Y'know, where you go out and enjoy life? Unless you've completely forgotten how to do that," Rebecca snapped harshly but her eyes still had a flicker of light humour in them.

"I know how to enjoy life..." Shaun grumbled in reply, looking down at his feet. He adjusted his glasses then looked at the door of the club.

"Well, show me then!" She grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the nightclub without any hesitation. Somehow, the tiny black haired woman had more strength than him and even as he tried to pry himself from her eagle like grip, it was no use. Already, Shaun found himself with his head beginning to throb as the music played louder than it needed to be. He was so used to quiet environments that being in the complete opposite was like throwing a rock into water and expecting it to float – he would not do well here. Rebecca stopped abruptly in front of him, causing the historian to bump into her.

"Hey, watch where you're-"

"I love this song!" Rebecca shouted, her voice nearly drowned in the noise of the deafening techno music. Just as Shaun was about to ask her why she would love such a horrible song, she jumped over to the crowd – already in full party mood. Shaun grumbled as he stepped into the large room, almost blinded by the bright and colourful lights that surrounded him. People were grinding against each other, their sweat coated bodies mixing into what looked like one figure from Shaun's angle. All of a sudden, Shaun's confirmation of his thoughts slapped him hard in the face. No wonder Rebecca had wanted this bar. It was Thursday night and the men wearing feathered boa's, swinging their hips to no end with the women and their short hair and skimpy tops grinding against their own gender. All of a sudden, Shaun felt himself shrink on the spot and he was definitely going to kill Rebecca later.

*******

Desmond watched as a petite woman with short cropped black hair jump onto the dance floor, immediately blending in with the crowd. She must have been here other nights, as she merged perfectly with the group without any of them questioning her sporadic, outgoing behaviour. Without much thought, Desmond's eyes slowly found their selves falling onto a slightly older man who stood in the door like a lost puppy. He didn't look like any of the Thursday night standards but he did have that slight look of femininity. But then again, Desmond had seen plenty of feminine men married to beautiful girls so he couldn't exactly pinpoint this man as gay. The song ended but smoothly transitioned into _Bad Romance _by_ Lady Gaga_, a song which Desmond had heard over a hundred times in the bar, even it was about three years old.

With slight interest, he watched the man walk over to the bar, completely disregarding the group of people who were having fun. He sat down in front of Desmond and looked up at him.

"You don't look so happy here," Desmond said as he straightened up, meeting the man's eye. He wore thin, black rimmed glasses and not the usual party attire; a sweater vest with a dress shirt underneath and a pair of black slacks. His light brown hair was ruffled, slightly parted to the side in what looked like a quick attempt to style his hair. Desmond suspected gay men often spent hours on their hair, even when they didn't have very much on it. So far, it looked as if this man was playing for the straight team.

"Give me an Apple Martini, if you have that," he replied in a cold, British accent as he pulled out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants.

That was definitely a tip in the gay direction. "Comin' right up," he replied as he turned around to the counter. Already, he saw the bar filing up and as much as he, for some unknown reason, wanted to stay and figure out why this man looked down, he had to attend to other customers as well. His boss wouldn't be so happy if he ignored hundreds of dollars worth of customers. Quickly, he made him his drink, emptying the last of the Vodka bottle in the martini glass. With fluid movements, he pulled out another bottle from the cupboard and served the not-so-straight man his drink before he rushed over to serve his other patrons.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched at the same woman he saw jump onto the scene jump up behind the man, startling him slightly.

*******

Just as Shaun took a sip of his drink, Rebecca jumped on him from behind.

"Hey! What are you drinking?" Rebecca beamed as she took it from his hand, much to his protest. The easiest way to get this night over with was to get drunk and return back to their office, where he could crash on the couch and wake in the morning with a killer hang over. He watched Rebecca take a gulp or two of his drink before she handed it back to him.

"Oh, I like that! What's it called?"

"An apple martini," Shaun replied, grumbling into his green drink, which glowed slightly in the darkness of the club. Occasionally, a light would drop on him and he would be fully visible for anyone to see, not that he expected or hoped that many would look in his direction. He watched as Rebecca leaned against the bar counter and wave her money around in the air. Like a metal detector finding a treasure chest under the ground, he watched the bartender's eyes flicker over to the green in Rebecca's hand and rush over.

"What can I getcha?" He grinned, taking the money from Rebecca's hand.

"What he's having," she beamed as she watched the man turn and began to make her drink. As he turned around with a drink identical to Shaun's, the historian noticed something off. His nametag glowed slightly, with the letterings of his name outlined a light blue. It was peculiar, as his Second Sight usually only worked on texts he had been trying to decipher.

"Desmond, is it?" Shaun spoke, startling both Rebecca and Shaun.

"Yeah, you can read, can't you?" He grinned, flicking his name tag. Shaun had to bite back a usual sarcastic remark he would make to Lucy or any of the other Assassin's he spoke to.

"Of course," he replied with a strained smile. "Do you do anything else than bartend?" Shaun could see the curiosity rising in Rebecca's eyes. They both knew very much Shaun didn't like to talk to other people longer than he needed to and if he was prying for information, he was usually onto something brilliant. Desmond raised his eyebrow.

"No, just work here whenever I can get the shifts. Why, do I know you from somewhere?"

"No, no. I was just merely curious," Shaun managed to keep a straight face, hiding his usual scowl. Why was his name glowing in the colour which would usually be the answer? This man was obviously something important.

"Huh, alright," and with that, he turned back around to continue his job. Once he was out of earshot, Rebecca leaned in closely, breaking Shaun's personal bubble in the process.

"What's with him? Why were you...?"

"His name tag was glowing in blue. You know what that means. That's never happened to me before, at least, not for another person's name!" He replied, finally breaking out into a scowl. It felt more natural.

"Ohh," Rebecca grinned. "You should look deeper into this. Dig your nails into his shoulders and make him yours."

"Wait, what are you getting at, Rebecca?" Shaun frowned at the woman's bright, insidious smile. She was planning something; something Shaun probably wouldn't like.

"I think you should act like one of the Thursday night regulars."

Shaun raised an eyebrow and thought it over. _Act like a Thursday regular? What did she mean by... Oh. _"What are you, insane? Like bloody hell I'm going to-"

"Oh please. When's the last time you even_ kissed _anyone? Let alone hold a normal conversation with anyone else other than the other Assassins or me?" Rebecca frowned, finally taking the stool next to Shaun and jabbing him in the chest with her free hand.

She did have a damn good point. "Fine. But I'm not acting like _him_," Shaun pointed to a short man, who was shaking his hips wildly with three different coloured boa's wrapped around his neck and singing to the music with drunken slurs.

"Deal," Rebecca laughed and slapped Shaun on the back before she downed the rest of her drink and joined the mad man on the dance floor.

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**A/N:** Woohoo! I'm going to make this into a multi-chaptered story. Probably only three parts though, since I had the idea for a one shot while I was listening to, _Are You Gonna By My Girl _by _JET. _I apologize for this being so long, I didn't mean to make it over two thousand words. Heck, I didn't even plan on having it multi-chaptered. Anyways, it's six in the morning as I wrote this and I just went through editing at seven in the morning so there might be a few mistakes. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!


	2. Making Quick Progress

Chapter Two, **Making Quick Progress**

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Desmond was finally off his shift and went to the employee locker room to head home. As he tugged off his uniform and changed back into his casual clothes, something stopped him from shutting his locker closed. Reluctantly, he looked at another pair of clothes that sat at the bottom. A nice pair of jeans and a black button up shirt had been awaiting him for a couple of days. Biting his lip, he had to make a choice. Go back home to nothing but the TV and his lame cable or stay here and figure out more about the not so straight man. On a last second's whim, he took out the clothes and changed quickly. Heck, he could kill time for a couple of hours. It was only ten in the evening anyways.

As he walked back out into the club, he nodded politely to the woman who had taken over his position. Nervously Desmond scanned over the crowd, searching for him.

***

Shaun found himself being swarmed by multiple men but surprisingly, not the overly flamboyant ones.

'_Shake that! Move that! Shake that!'_

At first he felt overwhelmed and uncomfortable. But every time he tried to move from them, he would catch a glance of Rebecca. She was wearing the, _you-can-leave-if-you-want-just-don't-expect-that-you'll-get-off-easy _kind of look. In the end, he decided to let the men dance with him. Throwing his hands up in the air, he could feel a set of hands on his waist. His eyes opened quickly as he came face to face with a stunningly handsome man. Their noses were just barely inches apart and Shaun could feel himself blushing furiously as he hesitantly let his arms fall around the stranger's neck.

'_I caught her when she fell from heaven; one to ten girl's an eleven!'_

He felt their bodies grind together, causing him to gasp in ecstasy. How had he pushed this part of his life aside? To his surprise, he felt the man in front of him slowly grope his arse and press his lips against Shaun's neck. Without meaning to, Shaun grabbed the back of the man's head, tangling his fingers into his slick hair. Both of their bodies were covered with sweat and the warmth between them was almost too much. Shaun wanted to scream with satisfaction as he felt the butterflies in his stomach looking for a way out. Every inch of his body tingled as he felt the man's hand brush against his waist, the skin to skin contact almost causing a spontaneous combustion on the spot.

***

Finally, he found him.

He was dancing in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a bunch of good looking guys. He was tonight's magnet; no wonder Desmond had to check him out – _he didn't even swing that way! _As he stepped down onto the coloured dance floor, he found himself growing more nervous by each step. The music switched from the dance slash rap to something a little more alternative. He felt the bass hum through his body as he moved closer to the DJ, where the man was. He at least had to figure out his name before either of them left for the night.

'_It's bugging me, grating me and twisting me around – yeah I'm endlessly caving in and turning inside out.'_

As Desmond got closer, he noticed a single man was in front of the man _and_ - with closer inspection – he had his hands on _his _man's waist. Jealousy raged through him as he pushed through the crowd. As he edged closer to the man, he felt his confidence growing stronger.

'_I want it now, I want it now – give me your heart and your soul.'_

Finally, he stood in front of the two. He watched as the stranger looked at him and shrunk back. He had been one of the rejections from earlier and obviously was no match for Desmond's death glare.

"Desmond? I thought you were-"

"Shift's over," he shouted back over the loudness of Matthew Bellamy's voice and guitar. "What's your name?" He had to know. He was so close to him now. They were idle, standing in the group of dancers. Desmond looked down slightly at him, noting that their height difference wasn't that big. He wasn't well built like most of the men in the club were and he seemed more self conscious as he timidly avoided Desmond's eye contact.

"Shaun. Shaun H- ... You can just call me Shaun!"

"I think I got it from the first two times you said it, _Shaun_," Desmond grinned, not even noticing their proximity.

***

He was slightly disappointed when the stranger left but when a flash of light hit them, he saw Desmond grinning at him.

"Desmond? I thought you were-"

He was abruptly cut off by the bartender who took a step towards him. "Shift's over. I don't work all night y'know!" He had to shout and even when he did so, Shaun could barely hear him over the rumble of Muse's _Hysteria_. Not wanting to look at him, Shaun looked at the ground as he heard Desmond speak quickly. He looked up and looked back down, only to hear him repeat the question.

"What's your name?" He shouted once again.

He could tell him his real name; or he could tell him a fake one. Desmond wasn't a Templar - that was for sure. There was something about him that Shaun needed to know. Why was he the answer? Why had his nametag glowed in blue? It was just... impossible.

"Shaun! Shaun H-" No. He didn't need to know his last time; the best lawyer never willingly gives up information unless he is asked about it. "Just call me Shaun!" He yelled back. Desmond nodded and without noticing, Shaun felt his body begin to sway back and forth in sync with the music. He was dancing with Desmond, like he had danced with the strangers. He felt the music flood through his body as he closed his eyes and tossed his hands into the air once again. He could feel Desmond move with him, slightly out of sync but that was fine. He was comfortable with him – comfortable as if he had known him before. But that too was impossible. He recalled his life with ease and there was no trace of this handsome bartender anywhere within in it.

Shaun opened his eyes to meet Desmond, who was in the exact same position he was. They were in a trance, in some sort of spaced out spell. The DJ raised the volume and Shaun fault as if his heart was about to explode. His headache had disappeared with the help of the alcohol – he had downed three glasses and everything seemed to smooth out easily. He wasn't drunk, no, just merely on the verge of being so. If he had one more drink, he knew he would spend the whole next morning by his old friend, the toilet.

Before he knew it, Shaun found himself wrapping his arms around Desmond's neck and pulling him close. Being a Thursday night regular was easier than he thought.

***

In any other circumstance, Desmond would have thrown any man who clung onto him like this out the window.

Shaun was different. He almost felt... attracted to him. Felt the need to press their lips together and slide his hands down-

_Woah! No, I'm not like that. I like women and nothing is going to change that and besides-_

His thoughts were abruptly cut off by Shaun pressing their bodies tightly together. He felt the air in his lungs freeze when he felt where his hands were. Had he grabbed his _ass?_ He hadn't meant to, but it didn't look like Shaun was complaining. He couldn't stop grabbing and caressing as much as he would have liked to. It felt good. Maybe he didn't want to take his hands away. Maybe this was... natural? Through the beats of the music, he found his hand pull away from his rear and gently caress Shaun's cheek. It felt like something had taken over his body. His stomach bubbled with exhilaration when Shaun leaned in, breaking his personal bubble.

Their lips met and it felt as if electricity had coursed its way through Desmond's body. Instead of jerking away, he felt himself grab the back of Shaun's head to deepen the kiss. He could hear the man gasp in surprise but groan in pleasure as he slipped his tongue into his mouth. He felt Shaun's warm hot breath creep into his mouth, causing his mind to go completely blank. Stubble grazed against his skin and it felt completely different from the smooth skin of a woman – so completely different in an _amazing_ way.

'_So one two three, take my hand and come with me – because you look so fine and I really want to make you mine!'_

Once Desmond pulled back, he immediately noticed the look in Shaun's eyes. They were filled with such a strong desire that Desmond couldn't turn it down.

'_Oh four five six, c'mon and get your kicks now you don't need money when you look like that, do ya honey?'_

"Your place?" Desmond grinned. He was hoping... maybe this wouldn't become a one night stand. Maybe, _just maybe_, something could bud from this. But first, he had to see if it felt right.

***

"Uh..."

Shit.

He couldn't take Desmond back to his place, as there wasn't really a place to take him back to. He and Rebecca stayed at their office twenty four seven, working strenuously on Animus 2.0. Lucy was working with subject sixteen and she had told them to be at the ready if she needed them. No. Desmond coming back to the office was _impossible_. Plus, he couldn't tell him he didn't have a home to go back to. That would just been humiliating for a man his age.

"My place is kind of a mess. What about yours?" Shaun replied with a grin, trying to play it cool. He could see Desmond think hesitantly. Besides, it was Desmond's house or nothing – he could do some snooping around once he got there to answer any of his puzzling questions.

"It's kind of a mess. I'd say yours would probably be the better choice," he shouted in reply.

Shit.

"Well... I don't know - it is pretty bad!" He grabbed Desmond's arm and pulled him farther away from the music so he didn't have to shout. Where was Rebecca when he most needed her? Oh, there she was. Making a beeline right for them with a girl in tow behind her - he'd have to thank her later.

"Hey Shaun, sorry if you wanna take someone home but I already got the place called," she grinned mischievously as she bolted out the door. Shaun knew that she wouldn't take anyone home with her – like him, she had strong trust issues. They were probably just going to spend the night out together and Rebecca would end up arriving back at the office (or home, whatever they called it) at six in the bloody morning. Shaun looked back at Desmond and smiled apologetically.

"Agh, alright. You're coming back to my place then."

Shaun felt like doing a little victory fist pump, but that probably wouldn't go over well with Desmond. He would get in there, find the answers, and then get the hell out. Already, he could feel himself growing too attached to him and this was definitely a bad thing. It was only his luck to go out on one night and immediately find himself attached to some random guy whose name glowed a mysterious blue. Now he knew the answer to why he never went out so much. He followed Desmond out into the parking lot, where he stumbled into the passenger seat right after Desmond unlocked and opened the door for him. Maybe chivalry wasn't dead; unless this was how Desmond treated everyone right before fucking and chucking. Shaun cringed at the harsh sound of the method and found himself on edge when Desmond began to drive.

Within a few awkward minutes of silence, he watched as Desmond pulled into a parking lot in front of a large apartment. Once the car was parked, Shaun stepped out into the street and rubbed his temple.

"You gonna be alright?" Desmond grinned as he walked over to him, grabbing his wrist lightly.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks for uh, asking," Shaun nodded in reply, feeling rather out of place as the bartender dragged him into the elevator. Fourteen floors up, the doors opened with a loud _ping! _and in a few clumsy steps, they were standing outside of Desmond's door. Continuing his charade, Shaun wobbled slightly, leaning against Desmond for his faux support. Just as he was unlocking the door, he stopped abruptly.

"Close your eyes and count to a thousand."

"Why. Are you-"

"Just do it," Desmond smiled as he watched Shaun dubiously close his eyes and cover them with his faintly shaking hands, careful not to upset his glasses. He could hear Desmond open the door and rush into the apartment.

"One, two, three, four, five, twenty, a hundred..." Seeing pitch black, Shaun took a step forward into what was obviously the hallway. In the background, he could hear the sound of paper scrunching, pizza boxes being tossed around, and the sound of a rubbish bin being closed, opened and closed again. How was he supposed to find anything when he was throwing everything out?

"Two hundred..." He closed the door behind him, feeling around for the lock. Once he found it, he pushed it over quietly. Even if he had slammed it over, Desmond probably wouldn't have heard it, as he was still busy cleaning up.

"Not fair!" He shouted with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Three hundred..." He pulled his hands away but kept his eyes closed. Slowly, he touched the wall, trailing his fingertips across it gently as he continued to walk forward. Gradually, the noises Desmond made become more silent and eventually, stopped all together.

"Eight hundred..."

"Not yet!"

Shaun smiled slightly as he opened one eye. "A thousand," he purred as he opened the other eye. In front of him, Desmond stood with a pair of heart patterned print boxers clutched in his hands. Raising an eyebrow, Shaun sauntered towards. Desmond's face flushed lightly as he tossed his boxers into what looked like the hamper. Glancing around him, he noticed that the apartment was rather empty. There weren't any posters, any extravagant furniture or artwork he could admire. It was like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted over.

"Did you... just move in?"

"No, I've lived here for three years."

"Ah, I see."

"Just... make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back," Desmond flashed him one of his heart skipping grins before he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As soon as he heard the door click shut, Shaun spun around and looked at the room. How the bloody hell was he going to find any answers in this blank slate? Quickly, he kicked off his shoes and rushed to the kitchen and opened all the cupboards. Nothing special stood out. He opened doors, glanced for a quick second then closed them. He did this until he had searched down the whole kitchen. _Nothing._

With a defeated sigh, he walked into the living and regarded the unmade bed to his left. He heard the toilet flush and felt his stomach do a back flip. With no answers and no chance of finding any of them, Shaun was supposed to leave; he had hit a dead end.

But something kept him glued to the spot as he watched Desmond open the door and approach him with a coy smile.

* * *

**A/N:** Woo! Finally finished this chapter. I had a little less inspration but I managed. Reviews are love and also fuel to write the next few chapters ~

_**Songs;** Shooting Star(Party Remix) - LMFAO David feat Pitbull & Kevin Rudolf | __Hysteria - Muse | __Are You Gonna Be My Girl - JET_


	3. Trust Lies On The Mattress

Chapter Three, **Trust Lies On the Mattress**

**Warning: **M rating for this chapter; but I don't want to change it as it'll disappear off the main list.

* * *

Shaun's face was flushed a dark crimson as he opened the door.

Grinning, he began to walk towards him. They stood barely an inch apart as Desmond could faintly smell the man's cologne lingering from earlier. Just as he reached out to pull Shaun closer, the man stepped backwards. _Is he playing some sort of game with me...? _He was still smiling slightly, so he wasn't scared or anything of the sorts. Or maybe he was. Desmond felt like neither of them really knew what they were doing. Two complete strangers alone with sexual tension so thick you'd have to cut it with a butcher's knife. Licking his lips, Desmond took one step forward for every step Shaun took back.

"What's the matter?" Desmond grinned as he unzipped his white hoodie. He continued to herd the not so straight man into the wall, where the minute he felt his back connect with something solid, he gasped quietly. He glasses lay askew on the bridge of his nose and as Desmond took one final step to close the distance between him, he could hear Shaun breathing heavily.

"I just don't think either of us really know what we're doing and that we should really slow it down and get to know each other and we should talk it over I mean have you been checked for any diseases I really don't want to get sick because I still got a long life to live and I really think-"

"Woah there," Desmond laughed as he pressed a finger to Shaun's lips.

***

Second thoughts were Shaun's worst enemies.

They always came at him from out of nowhere and he had to fight them off with confidence. But, most of the times he lost and often caved into his instinct (which was most definitely not a good thing). As Desmond began to unzip his sweater and toss it on the ground, he felt his second thought kicking in. _What am I actually doing here? Am I here seriously for-...? _No. He wasn't that desperate. He could easily build up a real relationship then meddle his way into sexual favours. It could take a while, but he certainly could.

Oh what the hell. Who was he kidding? Shaun Hastings never got any through his years in high school or university.

He had been so involved with this power struggle that had been going on behind everyone's backs that he spent no time for socializing. His people skills were weak but his technology and history knowledge were exceedingly high. People had liked him, sure, but it didn't mean that he had to like people back. His text books were his evening's dates and the library was his perfect setting for the Friday night all by himself. Actually, Shaun was lead to believe that the librarian that owned the place had some sort of _'crush'_ on him. Being the cynical bastard he was back then, he used the man to let him stay the nights and read books as long as he wanted. Slowly, Shaun became nocturnal and shut himself off from any other human contact – that was _before_ he met Rebecca and the other Assassins.

"I just don't think either of us really know what we're doing and that we should really slow it down and get to know each other and we should talk it over I mean have you been checked for any diseases I really don't want to get sick because I still got a long life to live and I really think-" The words tumbled out of his mouth but he couldn't help it. The butterflies in his stomach had been let loose, causing him to ramble without taking a breather to exaggerate his statement of not sleeping with Desmond for the night.

"Woah there," he watched as Desmond pressed a finger to his lips, grinning mischievously. Neither of them knew what they were doing but Shaun recalled something Rebecca often said to him.

_Live blissfully in the moment and then deal with the shit in the morning._

Oh Rebecca Crane, that crazy party girl and her words of faux wisdom. As Desmond pressed closer to him, he could feel his anxiety ebb away. Warmth replaced all questionable thoughts as finally, the bartender pressed their lips together. The fire from the club had carried its way here, sparking with a fierce intensity inside of them. Thoughts raced through his mind as he felt himself being pulled over towards the black leather couch. Heart hammering in his head, he felt himself pushed down into the sofa, sinking instantly into its comfortable and welcoming texture. He almost forgot about the tepid weight on top of him until he felt him straddle him roughly.

"Desmond..." Shaun groaned, slowly snaking his arms around the younger man's neck. His protest for the man to stop was overridden by his own hormones and Desmond's unavailability to answer him. His skin was red hot as he felt his fingers brush against his smouldering neck. Hesitantly, Shaun allowed Desmond to deepen the kiss. Being too engulfed in the way the bartender gently sucked on the bottom of his lip, he didn't even notice a pair of hands slip under his shirt. Breaking his mouth away from Desmond, he gasped slightly, nearly knocking the back of his head against the wall. "A-ah... stop, please..."

"Mmmn, I just noticed. You have a British accent," Desmond grinned as he pulled his hands out from under his shirt and instead, dug his hips harder into the historian's.

"Very good, you're somewhat observant," he smirked in reply but was quickly silenced by Desmond crushing their lips back together. As he felt his tongue press against his lips Shaun undecidedly opened his mouth slightly, stomach lurching at the fact that someone else's tongue was_ inside his mouth._

"Lift your arms," Desmond growled in low, playful voice. Without a second thought, Shaun raised his arms, allowing Desmond to pull off his sweater with ease. "I don't understand why someone would wear something so... office casual to a _night club_."

"I don't really know either. Now shut up and kiss me," Shaun smirked, grabbing the back of the man's head and pulling him in for another breath taking kiss. He heard Desmond laugh in that husky voice of his before he managed to undo each one of the buttons on Shaun's dress shirt with one hand. Taken back, Shaun looked down to watch him undo the very last button. He did it faster than he could even do it himself.

"Someone's skilled," Shaun mumbled as he took his turn in taking off Desmond's shirt. When he finally did so, he couldn't help but let his jaw fall into his lap. The man's chest was chiselled to perfection, each muscle proof of his hard earned work spent at the gyms daily. As much as he wanted to take the time to enjoy them, Desmond seemed to have other things in mind than allow the Brit to stare at his chest all night. Shaun's thoughts were rudely interrupted by a hand which began to rub an already large bulge in the front of his trousers. Bucking his hips, Shaun felt an unusual feeling gather in the pit of his stomach.

"Nghn... S-stop it..." Shaun cooed, panting heavily as he dug his fingernails into Desmond's shoulder.

"Why? You seem to be enjoying it," Desmond smirked in reply, applying more pressure to the hardened bulge.

"I-it feels weird!" Shaun stuttered as he began to feel his head spin slightly. He was becoming light headed and every single touch made him want to scream with pleasure. He didn't even hear himself, but his throat rumbled as he moaned loudly with cheeks painted a bright pink.

"Oh, Shaun dearest," Desmond teased as he undid the front of Shaun's slacks and slipped his hands down the front of the man's pants. "That's just called pleasure."

A spark of electricity shot up Shaun's spine as he felt the man's warm hand tenderly take hold of his erection. He bit his lip and held in a moan that had built up for years. No one had touched him like that for a _long time_. He could feel the sweat on Desmond's hand mix with his and hesitantly, he leaned in to kiss the younger man. Hungry for lust, Shaun grabbed Desmond's back and pulled him closer than he had been, completely destroying the barrier between their personal space. It's not like they had much, with the bartender's hands down the front of his pants. Moaning slightly, he pulled back and allowed Desmond to press sloppy lips against his neck, sucking gently as Shaun knew that it was going to leave a mark he would find in the morning. His mind was swimming in ecstasy, clearing out any coherent thoughts that he might have had.

Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, was the only thing going through his mind.

***

Desmond smirked as he withdrew his hands from the man's pants, much to his protest. But with a wink, Desmond got off him and began to undo his own jeans. He tossed them on the ground in the corner and stood only in his boxers and he knew Shaun had to mentally remind himself not to go crazy over him. He stood momentarily, willing Shaun to get up and walk over to the bed with just his mind, but he didn't do so.

"What...? Do you expect me to... y'know, suck your-"

Desmond laughed, voice masked by desire. "No, I want you to get your scrawny ass to the bed."

Shaun's lips formed in an 'O' shape and blushed as he went over to the unmade bed. Slowly, he let his trousers fall to the floor and pulled off his dress shirt as well. They joined in each other on the ground and before the man could object, Desmond already had pinned him to the bed and was working on tearing off his boxers.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" Shaun grumbled as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again for the millionth time that night.

"What does it look like?" Desmond teased as he finally freed him of the cotton boxers. They quickly joined their clothing on the ground and Shaun hadn't felt this vulnerable in a while, either.

"W-well, it looks like..." His mind went blank as Desmond became stark naked. Rebecca had always told him that he stared too much but he couldn't be blamed for this one. "I haven't even t-told you what I do..." He found it harder to form words that the man would understand. As corny as it sounded, his mind was turning to mush and he was forgetting much of the English language. He watched as Desmond reached over to the drawer and pulled out a small plastic package.

***

_Condoms, right. I'd forgotten all about the bloody things,_ Shaun groaned inside his head. But then again, who was he to complain when he was about to have sex with one of the most attractive men he had ever met? His reluctance on the couch seemed miles and miles away. Who was to think that he, Shaun Hastings, would have a one night stand? Not him, certainly.

"Fine, what do you do?" Desmond growled playfully as he climbed back on top of Shaun, kissing his chest.

"I, uh... A historian," he smiled weakly in reply, slowly running his hand over Desmond's shoulder. His skin was rough, definitely not like a woman's; it was so much _better_. Feeling completely at ease, he slid his hand along his back, feeling the curve of his spine. It felt... natural.

"Mmm, fascinating," Desmond purred, flipping Shaun onto his stomach. He took a moment to soak in the moment, slowly sliding his hand up the man's muscled thigh. He didn't go to the gym every day, but it looked like he did take time out of his week to work out. He could probably run almost as far as Desmond if he wanted to. He watched as the historian shivered at his softest touch and grasped the sheets, toes curling not so subtly. Ripping the package open with his teeth, his stomach flipped at the idea of his first time with a _man_. He didn't regret his motives, no, but what if he woke up the next morning and he was gone? For the first time in his life, he had never wanted someone to stay so much. Slowly, he rolled the condom onto his erection and made sure it was on properly.

"... Ready?" He felt like he at least needed to give him a heads up, even if he was ready himself to tear into him. He watched as Shaun took off his glasses and placed them on the bedside table, then nodded. Heart pounding heavily inside his chest, Desmond took a deep breath and roughly grabbed Shaun's hips. He heard the man gasp loudly as he pressed himself into him.

***

Pain, pain, pain, was the only thing going through his mind.

Pain as he felt Desmond begin to push himself inside. Pain as he felt Desmond's eagle like grip tighten on his hips, digging into his flesh. Pain as he felt Desmond lean against him, pressing their sweat slicked bodies together as he kissed his shoulder passionately. Muffling his scream, he grasped the sheets until he knew his knuckles were turning a pale white and his fingers tips a bright red. He bit down hard on the pillow, trying to collect himself as Desmond slowly began to compose his shaky rhythm.

He could feel the lubrication on the condom make things easier for him.

Gradually, Desmond fell into a consecutive pace, trusting slowly inside of the trembling man below him. To his surprise, Shaun felt Desmond remove one hand from his hips and wrap around his shoulder and grab his chin, pulling him back from the pillow. Curling his toes in anticipation, Shaun shuddered in pleasure as Desmond titled his head sideways and kissed him passionately.

"Let me hear your... uhn, voice..." Desmond pleaded in a low tone, grazing his teeth across the older man's neck.

"Desmond..." Shaun moaned, aching for his lips to be everywhere at once. He could feel the sweat trickle down his arched back as Desmond slipped two fingers into his mouth. Instinctively, he wrapped his tongue around the fingers and sucked on them gently. Closing his eyes, he could hear Desmond's heavy breathing closer than it really was, feel every skin movement he made and felt every single touch he dealt.

"Louder," Desmond grunted as he began to pick up his rhythm, tossing his head back in bliss.

"A-ah... Desmond... Desmond...!" He kept shouting, trying to keep himself from burying his face back into the smooth cover of the pillow. His muffled mumbles had gone to breathless pants, then throaty moans and finally, wordless cries, all within five minutes. He could feel his throat ripping inside, only allowing him to barely form sounds that took his place of Desmond's name. Before he could give Desmond's fingers a little nibble, he was forced back down into the pillow with the man's weight on top of him fully. With the small bit of sanity he had left, he propped himself up on his elbows and felt his knees dig sharply into the mattress. _Is this what Rebecca meant about doggy style?_

They quickly became a tangle of human limbs as Shaun could feel Desmond coming to an end. His abdomen constricted, voice crying out as loud as he could go without it fading. He could feel Desmond thrust inside him mercilessly. Their moans synced together and finally, Shaun felt Desmond hit his high point. As sore as his throat was, he managed to yell something between Desmond's name and a cry of pleasure as he came, making a mess in the ruffled bed sheets.

Panting heavily, he felt as Desmond pulled out of him and disappeared for a second. Shaun's vision was blurring and spinning, causing him to lie down on his back and recollect himself. Chest rising and falling, Shaun rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He could hear the bartender's footsteps in the background, shuffling around the tiny apartment. Feeling exposed, Shaun adjusted himself and pulled the sheets up to his waist. He could feel the wetness through the blankets but he was too tired to move anywhere.

He could hear Desmond's steps closing in on him and without a word; he felt his warm body press against his. Surprisingly, Shaun felt his body stiffen at the intimate physical contact. He could also feel Desmond feel a bit taken back as he placed his arms around Shaun's waist. Forcefully, Shaun willed every muscle in his body to relax and astonishingly, he did. Light headed, the historian finally felt comfortable in the arms of the stranger.

"Goodnight." Whether it was his words or Desmond's, it didn't matter as he drifted off into a deep, well needed sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys, sorry it took forever to upload! I just finished the editing with a friend a while ago while our power was out - thank God my laptop had some power left on it. Anyways, it's been a long time since I've written anything like this... I hope it was alright!


	4. The Truth Hurts, Love

Chapter Four, **The Truth Hurts, Love**

**Warning: **Some swearing is included in this!

* * *

_A man dressed from head to toe in a white garb leapt from roof to roof, keeping up with the figure in front of him. The night was young with a tint of bright afternoon blue on the far horizon. The two people ran in what looked like the frigid cold weather of Russia. A thick cloud of snow blinded their vision to a certain extent and blanketed the land. Their leather shoes trudged through the snow, slowing down their movements by only a fraction of a second. In the distance, something shimmered a vivid silver, luring them in closer to their target. With one jump, the pure white ground below their target was splattered a glistening red and they were on the move again. Successful, the two assassins grinned at each other and-_

Shaun was violently pulled out his sleep by a thick pair of hands gripping his arm. His whole weight was dragged quickly out of the bed and once he managed to open his eyes, he saw nothing. The room was still dark and all he could see were the blurred red numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table.

"Let go of-" before he could finish his sentence, a pair of sweaty hands covered his mouth. He could hear Desmond's muffled shouts, but he too, probably had a hand covering his mouth. Thinking quickly, Shaun elbowed the man to the gut, where he heard him grunt and stumble backwards. With only seconds to react, the historian wound up his fist, struck the man in the nose and knocked him straight to the ground. Blindly, Shaun spun around and flipped on the lights. In front of him, a rather burly man was dragging a flailing, naked Desmond towards the door. But the moment the light turned on, he turned around with a shocked and bewildered expression at the other naked man.

"This was supposed to be an easy job," the man growled in frustration and tossed Desmond aside with ease. He began to make his way over to Shaun with quiet but intimidating steps and Shaun had no choice but to grab the lamp beside him and whack him over the head with it. The glass shattered at impact, instantly knocking the man unconscious. The goon fell to the ground and smacked his head on the coffee table, causing blood to seep out onto the once light blue carpet. Panicking slightly, Shaun hurried over to Desmond and crouched down beside him.

"Are you alright?"

"What the_ fuck_ was that?" He shouted, rubbing his bruising side.

"We have to get out of here," Shaun frowned as he stood up and extended a hand to the puzzled man. Inside, Shaun was completely cussing himself out for being such a selfish idiot. How hadn't he known that the Templars had been on the move? Subject sixteen had been wearing down and they were obviously looking for a new test subject to tear apart. But how was he supposed to know that it was Desmond? "What's your name?" Shaun growled as Desmond took his hand and leapt up, crashing into his side.

"You don't fucking remember? Desmond!" Shaun did not like the tension that was radiating off him, but it was understandable. After all, the man had just almost been kidnapped by two large creeps who now lay on the ground, unmoving. Quickly, Shaun gathered their clothes from yesterday and tossed Desmond's to him. Under ten seconds, Shaun was already completely dressed with his glasses on while Desmond was struggling to do up the zipper on his jeans. _Such a tiny child_, Shaun rolled his eyes as he walked over to him and helped him as fast as he could.

"And your last name too," Shaun snapped and opened the front door. He peaked down the hallways, making sure no one else was waiting for the two to return. Luck was finally on his side as the corridor was empty.

"Why does it matter?"

"Just tell me!"

"... Greene. Desmond Greene."

It didn't sound right. It rang in his mind as false, but he didn't have time to think over it. "Alright, Desmond Greene, I'm going to try and take to somewhere that you'll be safe. Obviously, someone is trying to screw you over here and-"

"Why though? What do _you_ know that _I_ don't?_"_ Desmond shouted, banging his fist into the wall. Shaun cringed. He couldn't tell him the truth; that Abstergo was going to take him down.

***

Desmond's blood boiled as Shaun constantly pried for answers that were completely irrelevant now. He had been on the run ever since he was sixteen and lately, he had been undercover. That part was at least true – he had lived here for three years. _Three whole undisturbed years_. But this supposedly called 'historian' had probably led the monsters to him. Ever since he had been born, Desmond had been hiding on an Assassin farm, shielded from the evil that lurked outside of their boundaries. But at the vulnerable age of sixteen, he ran from those problems that had arisen in his so called desert sanctuary. He ran and ran until he made his way to the city and began to live his life in secrecy. It was no fun, continuing with a fake name, fake age and fake everything. He could only watch relations progress from a far and never make them himself. Whenever he felt like he was growing too attached to anyone, he ran to another part of the city and started over again.

He had moved to the night time partying section of the city and he had liked it. No one wanted to keep relationships; they wanted things done in one night.

He found himself taking the chance of using his first name but still keeping a false last name. He had felt safe; something he had yearned for year after year. At the age of twenty five, Desmond had found life quite dull and for a second time in his life, he took a risk – taking someone back home with him.

Now, the Templars were onto him and they weren't going to stop. They were both in danger and Desmond knew that they only wanted him; they would probably kill Shaun due to his of unimportant value to them.

His mind was swimming with questions; _how had they found him? What were they going to do to him? To Shaun? How could he run now? What name would he have to use? _His thoughts were immediately cut short by Shaun rushing over to him.

"Are you alright?" Of course he was. He had just been dragged out of his bed and almost taken capture by an evil company.

"_What the fuck was that?_" The charade was on – Shaun obviously had no idea what was going on. The way he fought was just a coincidence, nothing similar to the Assassins.

"We have to get out of here," _Oh boy, it sure doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. _Just one slip up had cost him everything. He had been too caught up in the moment last night, simply giving into his craving for any human affection that he hadn't gotten in years. He was pent up, a nuclear bomb ready to explode when provoked. And that's exactly what happened; this man had provoked him and dug himself into the roots of Desmond's desires. He made it so he had to have him. Had to take him back home. Had to expose him for what he really was. He heard the British man ask him his name.

"You don't fucking remember? Desmond, you idiot!" He shouted, feeling his blood stir once again as he took his hand and crashed into him, his balance completely thrown off. He had to steady himself before he could let go of the '_historian_'. He watched as he collected their clothes and tossed Desmond his hoodie, t-shirt, boxers and a pair of jeans. Just as Desmond managed to pull on his boxers then his jeans, he saw that the British man was already dressed. A crude remark crossed Desmond's mind but he didn't have time to think anymore of it as Shaun walked over to him, zipped up his fly and did his button. Ignoring the slight tint of pink appearing on his cheeks, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and slipped into his hoodie.

"And your last name," he snapped and Desmond did not like that tone he had used; at all. He watched as Shaun opened the door cautiously and peaked down the hallways.

"Why does it matter?" Desmond grumbled, pulling the hood up over his head.

"Just tell me!"

He couldn't tell him his last name. Already, he had given this man too much information and anymore would possibly have him under Abstergo's greedy hands in the snap of their fingers.

"... Greene. Desmond Greene," he decided to go with the very first last name he had chosen when he arrived in the city. That would have been almost eight years ago. Slowly but surely, Desmond watched as Shaun's facial expression turned sour as the gears in his head were turning furiously. He knew that the man knew something was wrong with that name.

"Alright, _Desmond Greene_, I'm going to try and take to somewhere that you'll be safe. Obviously, someone is trying to screw you over here and-"

"Why though? What do you know that I don't?" Desmond shouted. If there were judges here for charades, he knew he would have a ten out of ten. But did Shaun really know more than he did?

"Come on," Shaun growled as he already started making his way out the door. Having no other choice, Desmond followed him reluctantly. The two of them made their way to the stairs, taking every step quietly and with precaution. Desmond would watch from behind while Shaun would be the eyes in the front. They finally made their way to the lobby, which was completely void of any burly looking man who might have given them a second glance. Just as Desmond was making his way to the door, Shaun jerked him back.

"What are you, _mad_? Some of them are probably waiting behind that door!" He whispered, tightening the grip on Desmond's wrist.

"Well, they're probably waiting at the back doors too. We're probably completely surrounded!" Desmond snapped back. He watched as Shaun's eyes trailed off to a red door in the distance, with a sign saying 'exit' glowing on top of their escape. "That'll set off the whole building and-"

"That's a bad thing?" Shaun scowled, finally letting go of Desmond. "It'll wake up everyone in the apartment and they'll all come running down and then they can't get us in front of everyone."

Desmond hated to admit it, but he did have a pretty good point. "... Right. C'mon, let's go then."

Making sure that no one was watching them too closely, they pushed through the door and as Shaun had said, an alarm started to loudly go off inside. Already, Desmond could hear the protests of his neighbours of having to get up at three in the morning. Within minutes, people began to spill out onto the streets and in the distance they heard a fire truck making its way to the building. Looking at each other, Desmond knew that it didn't end here and that they had to keep running. There was no sense of splitting up because well... Desmond needed Shaun. In the five minutes since their abrupt awakening, he had learned more about Shaun then he had all last night –excluding the curve of his spine and the deep tenor of his voice- and yet nothing at all. Shaun knew something Desmond didn't, and vice versa. Desmond wasn't planning on sharing his family history with Shaun, and he expected the same respect from the 'historian'. Whether it was coincidental or not, Desmond was glad to have Shaun around even if it was just for the time being. Just as the fire truck arrived, the two of them bolted into the darkness of the nearby alleys. There was no way in hell that Desmond would get caught and then die at the hand of the Templars.

Gradually, they began to run out of steam. They had been running for what seemed like hours but the sun hadn't even hinted at its arrival in the sky yet. It was still dark and the only light they had was from a nearby lamp post, illuminating their faces a tasteless orange. Bent over with his hands on his knees, Desmond watched as Shaun did the same, both of them trying to collect their breath and sanity.

"Where am I going to go now?" Desmond mumbled as he stood up and stretched, keeping an eye out for any suspicious behaviour. He had put blind trust in this man and the Templars had almost taken him away. Then he put blind trust in him again and they were far from bad guys. He didn't know whether to hate him or love him.

"I'm bringing you... to my... home," Shaun panted, coughing dryly.

"Why should I trust you?" Desmond frowned, keeping his distance from the man. He didn't need a broken rib or arm now, since this was only going to be a momentary stop. Soon, they would have to move again and keep moving.

"Because, who else do you have to trust now?"

With that statement, Desmond remembered how much the truth actually hurt.

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, that was a quick update. With the help of a friend again, I have managed to devolp an actual plot for this story. So, there will be much more ShaunDes to come! It might be a little slower, considering I had done almost ten hours of English homework in the past two days. So, I wrote this at once again, six in the morning. A few things have been changed up and bent to make this work and well, I think I'm going to make a playlist to this. **_Many thanks to the reviews who make my day!_**


	5. Damn! I Thought We Had It

Chapter Five, **Damn! I Thought We Had It**

* * *

His legs burned and he couldn't recall the last time he ran this far.

In fact, he couldn't recall anything from the past few days. Templars, Abstergo, chasing, stronghold, and help, were the only things going through his mind. Half the time they were running and he forgot that Desmond was beside him. Feet stomping against the pavement, he could see the silhouette of the stronghold in the distance. It was comforting, knowing that he was so close but still so far. Taking one last glance around him, he made a check for any suspicious looking men. They had to cross the street. It was the only way to get to the other side. It was dangerous, life threatening even, but they had to do it. Taking in a deep breath, Shaun grabbed Desmond's hand.

"What the-"

"Shut it and run with me as fast as you can," Shaun hissed under his breath, glancing back and forth quickly. Always look before you cross the street, his mother would tell him. Well, he certainly wouldn't forget to do that here. He could feel Desmond's warm, moist, sweat slicked hands grasp his tightly. It was as if he let go, he would be gone and the bad guys would devour him like a lion jumping on a vulnerable gazelle - he wouldn't have much chance alone with them.

Feeling his heart pound heavily inside of his head, blood flowing furiously through his veins, he ran. He ran as hard as he could with Desmond in tow. It felt like an eternity as they crossed the two way streets, completely invisible to anyone watching.

Except one person.

One person who turned on car lights to shine directly at them as they began to make their way into the alley. Shaun froze in an instant, as if someone had taken a bat to his spine, paralyzing him on the spot. In a state of hysteria, Shaun had no idea what to do. He heard the car doors open and close. More than one person had gotten out of the car. They were closer than he had calculated quickly in his head.

"_Run, move it!_" Desmond whispered hurriedly to him and began to run ahead. He didn't need a reminder to do so. Without resistance, he ran after the man and focused in on not his or Desmond's steps, but the steps of Abstergo edging closer. Head up, focused, he had to keep running for the white sweater that was in front of him. Before he could catch up, he watched – almost in slow motion – as the white sweater fell to the ground. A loud cracking sound ensured and just before Shaun could run over and help him, he too felt the side of his head smash into the concrete ground. Instantly, he could taste the tangy copper as it trickled into his mouth as he felt another thick pair of hands grab his arms and shove them behind his back.

He began to scream, anything to help him and Desmond – but his cry for help was short lived. Immediately, a ragged cloth was shoved into his mouth as they grabbed his hair and yanked him back. He could feel a tight wire dig into his wrists and now, his tightly bound ankles. He could only assume Desmond was getting the same, agonizing treatment as him. He felt a warm liquid trickling down the side of his cheek and a violent lurch in his stomach as he was picked up aggressively from the ground. Before he could see anything that would help him escape, his eyesight abruptly went pitch black. He was conscious, he could feel that much – then it hit him. They had blind folded him, tied him, picked him up and now were walking away with him.

He heard the chatter of the people around him, roughly four men and then the opening of a car trunk.

Without a simple consideration, he was tossed like a bag of potatoes into the small trunk. Just as he was about to try and roll his way out, something rock hard collided with his head and he found himself in a world of complete nothing.

***

Desmond woke gradually to the sound of rattling rocks beneath the tires of the fast moving car.

He could feel the torment of the thick wires indenting his wrists and sore ankles. His jaw cried out in pain, but surprisingly, he didn't feel the cloth that had been shoved down his throat earlier before he had been tossed into the trunk. Groaning with frustration, he glanced around the small area. As a light flickered into the trunk, Desmond saw that Shaun's face was just a foot or so away from his own. It was badly bruised with blood dried on his lips but he was still breathing; Desmond could hardly hear him at that.

"Shaun... Shaun!" Desmond whispered, trying not to alert the men who were taking them away. He didn't respond as Desmond wiggled over to him, gasping as he felt the wire cut into his skin. He could feel the blood trickle down his leg and soak into the trunk's floor. Walking wasn't going to be an option for a while once they got out – if they got out _alive_. Who knew what the Templars would do him? To... Shaun? What the hell did they want with him? Why did they take him? Was he also... an Assassin? "Shaun, wake up!" He pleaded, their faces inches apart. Another flicker of light passed by them and the closer he got, the less severe the wounds seemed.

"Shaun!" He tried one more time, nearly yelling into his ear. He watched the man stir slightly, but his eyes didn't flutter. Shaun merely groaned and moved slightly, cuddling closely into Desmond's body. He looked as if he had been crippled by the way he was curled up in the tight space. Illogically, if he could, he would have wrapped his arms around the man and held him close, assuring him that they were going to be okay. But they weren't – he knew that. The Templars were going to do something to both of them. He needed to talk to Shaun, he needed to know what he was holding back.

Quietly, he leaned in closely towards Shaun. He didn't mean for their lips to brush together as he went to remove the cloth. He had figured it would have been further out, easier for him to tear back – but they had really pushed it in. It felt extremely _weird_, pushing open someone's mouth when they were unconscious. _Is this what a __necrophiliac__ felt like?_ Desmond thought, chomping down on the cloth. Another line of light passed through them and Desmond froze as he watched Shaun's eyes open. Jerking back, Shaun hit the back of his head against the wall of the trunk. Desmond growled and jerked forward towards him and pressed their lips together – not entirely on purpose – and slowly pulled the cloth out of his mouth.

"What the hell were you doing?" Shaun hissed and tried to raise his arms to rub his head only to remember harshly, that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

"I was trying to get the gag out of your mouth!"

"Well, you had your tongue pretty far down my throat, trying to get it!"

"What's your problem? Just last night we-"

"Oh shut it! I don't need you to remind me," Shaun snapped, licking the bottom of his lip to taste dry blood. His head was pounding with pain as he tried to concentrate and think of what to do next. Desmond now regretted de-gagging him. What happened to the shy man that he met last night?

"What? You expect me to forget all about last night? If you hadn't led them over to my apartment, none of this would have happened!"

"What? You believe I led them to you? Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because you're one of them! A Templar bastard!"

"What makes you think I'm a bloody Templar? I saved your ass when you were being dragged out of the room!"

"Maybe you were just trying to continue a sick and twisted charade!" Desmond growled, wanting nothing more than to hit Shaun over the head with a bat, or run him over with his motorcycle that he had recently bought.

"Of course! And one of my own nearly smashed my skull open against the concrete to continue the _'charade'_," Shaun replied in a bitter tone, swallowing heavily. Desmond narrowed his eyes at him.

"So then... why did you come home with me last night if it wasn't to lead them here?" He asked, completely oblivious to his own question. Another light flickered down across them and Desmond immediately regretted his question.

"The exact same reason why you took me home."

_Oh, of course,_ Desmond thought as he awkwardly wriggled back. Just as he was about to ask Shaun why they wanted him as well, he was abruptly shoved against the mysterious man as the car came to a halt. Cusses were muttered as they heard the doors of the car open and close frantically.

"Pretend you're still passed out," Shaun hissed, closing his eyes. The trunk opened and Desmond watched as they heaved Shaun's dead-like body out. Unease stirred in his stomach, threatening him to release last night's lunch.

"Hey, they coughed up their gags. Should I put them back in?" A deep voice asked and another replied with a 'yes'. Desmond had to fight every urge to cringe when they shoved the cloth back down his throat. He heard Shaun groan at the same result and he wanted to hit him with a crowbar, or any weapon that their kidnappers were carrying. _It was his fault._

Closing his eyes, he then suddenly felt a sweaty pair of hands grab his sides and toss him over the man's shoulder. He had to bite his lip subtly to avoid grunting loudly in pain.

"Wait, wait," a man spoke in a deep, husky, voice. Desmond heard the others stop on the spot once again.

"What now?" Another growled in reply. It had to be the other one who was carrying Shaun, due to the irritation in his voice.

"Their blindfolds fell off. We should put them back on, y'know? Just so they can't scamper their way out," Desmond's bad guy laughed. He could hear the others grunt in agreement as a thick piece of material covered his eyes and tied behind his head. If only he wasn't tied, he could have run blindly for the exit. Who were they and what the hell did they want from him?

***

Shaun felt his body fall quickly to the ground.

"Oops, my bad," one of the goons laughed, kicking him in the stomach. He gasped, feeling the little amount of content in his stomach dare to come back up. He screamed and screamed but only a faint muffle came out. His throat was raw as he tried spitting the gag back up. "Oh look, we got ourselves a little screamer!" The same man laughed and grabbed Shaun's feet and began to drag him down the hallway. He could feel the ridges in the floor nick his sides and each time, tears sprang up in his eyes. He wiggled pathetically to get free but with his feet and hands tightly bound, there was nothing he could do. He was also blinded and he wondered where his glasses had disappeared off to.

Before he could get another thought in, he was dropped abruptly and he heard Desmond's body fall beside him.

"Jimmy!" The deep voice shouted, obviously surprised and shocked.

"There they are!" Shaun recognized that voice – the one from back at the apartment and the one who had thought it was going to be an easy job. "That little rat nearly killed me." Shaun felt his heart pounding heavily as he tried to collect his now scattered common sense. But before he could brace himself, he received a hard blow to the back, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped, writhing in pain as he felt a copper tasting liquid in his mouth once again. Before he could start using his lungs again, he felt the man grab the collar of his shirt and hoist him up off the ground. On a positive note, he felt the gag roughly pulled out his mouth as he gasped for breath, trying to choke out a scream.

"Where's all your strength now?" Jimmy laughed as he watched the man's face turn a light shade of blue. Shaun wiggled, trying to pull away from him but it was no use. "I bet you were a real pretty boy before all the bruises and blood, huh?" Shaun felt his stomach lurch cruelly as the man dropped him and his head collided with the cold ground. Ears ringing, he finally managed to take a deep breath.

"Hold him down, will ya? One grabs the ankles and the other, his upper body. I gotta make sure he doesn't get away for this one," Shaun listened as the other men took thundering steps towards him. As if he were paralyzed, Shaun couldn't gather the strength to move away.

If he thought the pain from the previous strikes were horrible, he had it coming to him.

He heard the fabric of his pants rip down the side with the quick swipe of a knife. All of a sudden he found the strength to struggle, much to the protest of the men holding him down. He found the strength to scream, hoping that maybe an employer would come down and rescue them. But it didn't matter – they would be too late. Agony seared through his thigh as he felt the cold, razor-sharp tip of the knife dig into his flesh, tearing the tissue apart slowly. The more he struggled, the worse the pain became as he felt the man dig deeper and made it last as long as he could. He could feel the warm blood spill over and run down his leg from the exposed muscle as the man, after what seemed like ages, pulled his knife back out and chuckled. "Now maybe you won't be able to run away so easily."

Feeling the blood begin to pool over his wound and his voice begin to waver, he silenced himself, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. The wound burned as if someone had pressed his leg against the stove while he tried his hardest not to pass out. He felt his whole body spinning as his head lolled back and forth. Once again, he felt the same stubby hands grab his ankles and begin to drag him across the hallway like a corpse's body. Rendered defenceless, Shaun couldn't stop thinking about Desmond. Everything he heard felt like it was so far away – so distant that he could just barely hear their words. It was as if his head and been rudely plunged underwater and he was slowly drowning, being dragged under to his death. He could hear a long conversation go on – and he could tell when someone was yelling, which happened quite often – until he just eventually felt all sound fade out to a dreaded silence.

Shaun didn't know whether he was still alive or dead.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait! I got it written then I went through a few times and actually edited it, then had Nicole edit it. Anyways, leave reviews 'cause they keep the story running! Also, a big thanks to everyone who's left reviews so far and continued leaving them!

_PS; I might be starting a mix for this, so maaaybe, leave some songs in the reviews? Thank you ~_


	6. A Crying Shame

**A/N:** Jeewhiz! Sorry it took me so long to upload this but it was a bitch to write. It's hard writing a character that you've never done before - especially Vidic. I have the strongest urge to make him sucha pervert but then I have to remind myself, _No! This man is as straight as they come and that's just sick._ You know you're a fangirl when... *sigh* Anyways, onto the chapter! Thanks to those who've been following this up!

Enjoy!

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Chapter Six, **A Crying Shame**

Desmond tried his best to keep still and not to act out of order.

After hearing what they did to Shaun, he didn't exactly need a demonstration on himself. For a moment, he wondered if Shaun was alright. But then again, why would it matter? They'd both be dead in a matter of minutes, anyways. It was hard to keep an optimistic attitude as he was dragged through the hallways of the Templar stronghold. He had no idea where he was, he had no weapons, and had no way of knowing where to escape. He had lost track of time - as if it no longer existed. He couldn't keep track of the seconds trickling away from his life. It was as if every breath he took was an eternity, waiting to be silenced by the gun of a henchman.

But every once in a while, he would be reminded time was constantly on the move. He would hear the voiceless groans from Shaun and remember how much they had injured him. He hoped the wounds weren't as bad as he pictured them. No. He hoped that they were _worse_ than the way he pictured him. Why was he thinking compassionately of the man who lead the Templars to him and his death? _Because he was the one who comforted you and tried to save your sorry ass,_ his conscience kicked in, reminding him fully that Shaun was the reason he probably wasn't dead on the spot.

Faintly, he could hear the goons talk quietly amongst themselves, stopping abruptly and dropping Desmond onto the cold ground. He could hear Shaun fall beside him, gasping with the harder impact.

"Well, we have about five minutes. Smoke?" Jimmy spoke, voice dripping with disgustingly victorious attitude.

"Shaun?" Desmond whispered, tasting the tangy metallic sweetening in his mouth.

"Shut up," was all Shaun could manage to spit out before he began to cough dryly.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm not-"

"Hey! Is that talking between our two hostages I hear?" Another voice cut in, immediately cutting off Shaun's air with the heel of his boot.

"Leave him alone!" Desmond shouted.

"Aw, listen to that! Hostage number one wants us to leave his little boyfriend alone!"

Desmond heard the goons snicker, wanting to rip their tongues right out of their ridiculous mouths. He heard as Shaun gasped for a breath of fresh air as the bad guy removed his foot from his throat. Without warning, the blindfold was ripped away from his head and everything appeared in front of him. They were in a long, modern hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. The bad guys were heading for a door that was paneled with frosted glass, and, as Desmond looked behind him, he could not see the door they had come in. It appeared that there was only one way to exit - and that was to enter.

"Well? Should we go in now? Dr. Vidic should be waiting for us now – since his conference should be over," Jimmy smirked as he grabbed Shaun by the arm. Desmond watched as the man didn't even bother to fight back, eyes glazed over from the astonishing amount of injuries he had received. The large man roughly pulled back Shaun's sleeve, pushing it right up to his shoulder. He watched with fury as Jimmy pressed the cigarette against his skin, causing him to cry out in agony.

"You bastard! Stop!" He shouted, and with his outburst, he received a knee to the face. Tumbling back, he hit his head against the wall, almost blacking out. For a moment, the world faded out to grey and everything seemed grainy, like in the old movies. Then everything suddenly flashed back to full colour. Groaning slightly and trying to tune out the sound of the men's laughter, he rocked himself up to meet Shaun's gaze. For a moment, he felt guilty, as if he had been the one to lead the Templars to Shaun. But no, it was the opposite way around – of course it had to be. But who were these people? The Templars weren't large, elaborate companies... or were they?

"Shut up," another man snapped at him, pulling a gun out of his pocket. Desmond froze with fear as he watched the deadly instrument click with the sound of a loading round. Shutting up was easier when you had a gun pointed between your eyes. Without warning, the door beside them slid open as the Templar men forced both Shaun and Desmond to stand on their feet, ankles still tied.

"Ah, finally – Jimmy! What are you doing to our lovely guest? Put that thing away!" A deep voice growled, high with authority. Desmond watched as the gun was pocketed back in the man's pants, just before he was shoved into the large room. Behind him, two of the goons remained in the hallways while three followed both Shaun and Desmond into the main space, both being shoved while trying to walk with little space from their tied ankles. With his back turned to his new arrivals, he turned around in a dramatic style, his lab coat fluttering around with him.

"... What is this?" Desmond looked up to see an older man with grey hair speak with a tight lipped frown. His eyes were cold as they looked from Desmond to Shaun, questioning everything before him. "I only asked for Miles."

"Yes sir, we know," the one known as Jimmy responded, prodding the back of Desmond's head with an eager fist. "We have him."

"But who is this?" His gaze cast over to Shaun, looking over the man who stood before him. "I told you-"

"Not to spill any blood because you didn't want too much of a mess," another man cut in. Max. "but this one fought back with extraordinary skill so we had no choice. As you can see, Jimmy sustained a few injuries, as well as I," he grumbled, pointing to the dark bruise on his forehead. Desmond knew it was the one Shaun had hit with a lamp right over the head – didn't that one also hit his head against the corner of the table?

"Don't you dare interrupt me, or I'll have you in the basement like the others who defied my means," Vidic barked, beckoning for them to bring forth the two men. They did so and Desmond could feel his heart pounding heavily inside his ribcage. "Hmm, well, what's your name, my little uninvited house guest?" Desmond watched Vidic's eyes went to Shaun's thigh, the material surrounding it was dyed a dark red, then to his shoulder, where an angry red burn mark screamed in pain. Shaun bit his lip, musing whether to tell him a real name or false. Then something suddenly occurred to him as he turned to look at Desmond.

***

"You told me your name was Desmond Greene!" He snapped.

"Look, I can explain!" Desmond frowned back. Now wasn't the time for such trivial matters. Before he could get out the rest, he felt the goons behind him kick in his legs, causing him to fall to his knees painfully. He could hear them do the same to Shaun, though it must have hurt more for him due to his leg injury.

"Quiet! The both of you! Now, guest, I'm going to ask you one more time what your name is," he smiled coldly, crouching down to meet him eye to eye. Hatred radiated from him – hatred from the fat cat that was attempting to take the world by unnecessary means. This had to be the dreaded Warren Vidic Lucy told Rebecca of. This was the one who was slowly killing innocent people by the machine that lay just a few feet from them. He could feel the impatient tension in the room and by taking a deep breath, he decided to reply.

"Shaun."

"... Shaun what? Do you have a last name?" He smiled, obviously forced. Shaun had to resist the urge to punch him in the face and take down everyone else in the room. But there was a small problem to that – he was completely tied out.

"I'm not telling you," he snarled back, eyes burning with as much hatred as Vidic had shown him. The man stood up in a flash and merely laughed, tossing his head back. A woman appeared from around the corner and Shaun could register the shock in her eyes. Lucy Stillman stood just a few steps away from him, the one who was keeping their operation alive. Their very own double agent.

"Well then, if you don't tell us, we'll find it. Lucy, go through the database and look for all the Shaun's in this region and get me pictures to match this one," he grinned with an insidious expression, tapping his sides lightly. Shaun watched as Lucy made her way to the computer, keeping her eyes on the ground instead of giving away any clues. If any of the goons caught her looking at him the wrong way, everything might have been blown out of the water. "Now, while my lovely assistant, Lucy Stillman, is searching for your data, care to tell me what you're doing with Mr. Desmond Miles?"

Shaun looked at Desmond, who had suddenly decided that looking at the windows on the other side of the room was far more interesting.

"Well, I went to a bar for a drink and he was there. We began to talk and went home sober, sad enough. I went back to his place because mine is under renovations and then your men rudely interrupted us," he spoke nonchalantly, attempting to keep his temper under control. There was no way in bloody hell that he was telling the whole story.

"Why do I have a feeling you're leaving something out?" He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest slowly. Shaun narrowed his eyes.

"I'm telling you-"

"Oh! I have a question!" Jimmy smirked, ruffling Shaun's hair roughly. If both his hands and feet would have been free, he would have had Jimmy on the ground in a matter of seconds. Vidic's eyes glowed with curiosity as he nodded at the larger man. "Why were you two sleeping _naked_ together?" Shaun felt his skin flush crimson, along with Desmond, who was now an exact match in skin tone. Humiliation washed over him as he tried to come up with an answer – but what could he seriously say? "And..." He felt the man's beefy fingers touch his neck, causing him to jerk away and fall onto the ground, taking the impact from his side. "Come here," he motioned to Vidic as he leaned over the svelte man, grabbing his collar and pulling him up aggressively. "Look at that mark? What do you think that is?"

The silence dragged on painfully as he looked up at Desmond, who was still on his knees and cheeks still tinted a bright pink. For a second, he felt Desmond's lips on his neck, sucking roughly like he did last night. Then he remembered that it wasn't like that anymore, that they were tightly bound hostages in a large corporate building. He shivered violently at the cool touch of Vidic's fingers on his neck, on his _sensitive_ spot.

"Ahh, you're one of them," the old man smirked, observing the knife wound in his thigh. "And who did this to you?" He asked softly, pressing his fingers against it gently. Shaun gasped, cringing at the simplest touch to his wound. "Well?" Dr. Vidic asked, increasing the pressure slowly as his fingers slowly began to dig into the wound. Shaun screamed out, his voice hoarse from the constant use of his voice at such high levels.

"Oh whoops, that one was me," Jimmy laughed. "Same with the cigarette burn. The little faggot was asking for it," he beamed, a proud hunter. After what seemed like an agonizing forever, Vidic removed his fingers and barked at Lucy to get him some sanitizer and a cloth. She left the data search up as she did what she was told, like a lap dog working for its king.

"Now, now, Jimmy. We don't need you terrorizing them any further," he smiled with a sly grin. "Just keep an eye out for... unexpected diversions and such."

Writhing in pain, Shaun bit back another soulless scream as he watched Lucy aid the man whom he had easily grown to hate. She was right about him being such a prick.

"Can someone hold him down? I need to take blood samples from each of them, actually..." He smiled cruelly as he pulled out a syringe from his pocket. Without being asked twice, both of the goons held down Shaun as they grasped his arm, cutting off the blood circulation. Relentlessly, Vidic plunged the needle into Shaun's arm, filling it to the very brim. Then they easily held down Desmond as Shaun layed motionlessly on the ground, trying to keep his breathing steady. He could feel the world around him spinning, daring him to black out. Shaun watched out of the corner of his eye as Vidic handed the vials off to Lucy, who did very well to mask her disgust at his methods, and then walked over to the computer screen.

"What...? You can't be serious! There are no records of you here what so ever! Who are you, mystery boy?" He grinned. Then suddenly his eyes lit up in a sick and twisted pleasure. "Well, I suppose that's a good thing. The city won't be looking for your body, which is just a bonus for us."

Shaun felt the blood drain out of his face as the thought flashed through his mind_. He was going to be killed instantly._

"No... n-no..." he whimpered. Never before had he been so scared, so cornered into an inevitable fate. He had evaded death before, but that was when he could run or make it away. He was surrounded here with no way of escape. He had to buy time. He had to.

"Warren, wait!" Lucy's voice rang out above all the others and Shaun watched as Desmond's eyes followed over to her. "We can't get rid of him! His blood type is AB-, one of the rarest in the world!" She exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Lucy, we have no need for him. He's just a witness with a mouth to our little... personal game of hide and seek," he smiled back down at Shaun and once again, he felt all the blood evaporate out of his body. "Jimmy, Max, and Johnny, have him out of here and bring him down to the basement. Make sure he doesn't scream... don't need the superiors knowing that we spilt more blood," he sing songed, leaning against the Animus. He watched as both Jimmy and Max grabbed his eyes, Jimmy being sure he dug his thumb into Shaun's burn mark, as they began to take him off. He turned to Lucy when Shaun suddenly screamed out.

"I can see things, like the Eagle Vision! I can see blue, red, white and yellow! I'm like them!" He shouted, wriggling to get free. The men continued to carry him out but suddenly dropped him when Vidic yelled at them to stop.

"Eagle Vision... how do you know of such things?"

"I have it. I see texts in different colours. Blue means correct, red means incorrect or false if I'm looking for that information, white means that there's a hidden meaning and yellow means that's a clue to an answer I'm looking for," he panted, his throat sore from how vocal he had been all day. He saw Desmond give him a puzzled look, the same one he had given him when he asked him questions about his job back at the bar. He saw Lucy with an expression the exact opposite of Desmond's.

"Well... this is quite interesting... But you are-"

"Vidic! Listen to yourself!" Lucy's voice was shrill with her outburst as her heels clicked across the floor. "He could very well help us find the location quite easily with this Eagle Vision of his! Of course we'd still need Desmond to figure out the rest of the puzzle, but this is a huge bonus! We'd be fools if we choose to ignore such a gift!" She laughed, her eyes sparkling with the same mischief that was in her boss', but it had to be fake. Shaun watched as the doctor began to muse over the thoughts until he finally made a conclusion.

"Very well, you've escaped your death narrowly, you slithering snake. Such luck does not come free though," he smirked, touching his grey beard gently. "After a night's rest, we'll get both of you started to work tomorrow. Though, I suppose I could spare you two some kind of kindness."

Desmond and Shaun's ears both picked up. It felt as if they had been put through hell over and over without mercy, so any kind of justice would be nice. Even a glass of water would do them just fine. Or perhaps bandaging to Shaun's leg?

"I won't separate you two, eager lovers. You'll have the night the talk things through and get over any... disagreements you two might have developed in the past twenty-four hours. But first, Shaun, we don't want you dying so quickly from blood loss. Let's get you cleaned up before you two can retire to your nice, cold, pathetic excuse for a bed."


	7. Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

**A/N:** Hi there! Sorry it took me so long for the update. Huuuge writer's block and I have a few more plot bunnies jumping around in my head. I hope you guys aren't mad at me for taking too long ~ I'm trying to keep up with this, I seriously am. The plot's gonna advance reaaaaal slowly because I really need to work up to my climax. I got 2 other projects in the works, so I'm just trying to make these all even. Anyways, big thanks to those who gave me some songs! The mix is coming along nicely. Also, a huuuuge thanks to googleit6, who beta's my stories and probably rolls her eyes at my clichés. Plus, another thank you to everyone who's kept reading past all the good smut and into my actual... well, attempt at writing. Thank you so very much for all the praise you guys have given me.

PS: Changed to an M rating because... well... I think thing's are going to get more... ahem, _mature_, further in the story. Just a heads up.

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Chapter Seven, **Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire**

**- - -**

Desmond sat anxiously on the bed, hands clasped tightly together.

Vidic had been right. It was a pathetic excuse for a bed. He felt like he was sitting on stone, but then again, stone would have at least been a tad bit comfier. Time did not go by as Desmond sat, for an unknown length of time. Without a clock, or even the sight of the sun, he had no idea whether the sun has risen or fallen again. What seemed ages could have really only been minutes. He tried counting by seconds, but once he reached four hundred and eighty-three, he gave up.

Numerous times, he tried to position himself right. That was, after he took a look around his captive cell. It wasn't like jail, at least, not the look of it. It certainly felt like it. He had a bathroom, with a door, but, the flaws to the door were that cameras were hidden in the corner. Well, not exactly hidden if he could see them in plain sight. So he wasn't expecting to take a shower or strip down naked anytime soon.

He grew uneasy as he laid down on the bed, crossed and uncrossed his legs many times. He couldn't hear a word out of the other room. Not clearly, at least. They were all muffled and merged together and every once and a while, he heard Shaun scream or cuss at whoever was working with him. Every time he heard the man shout, it brought his thoughts back to room around him. Had Shaun truly lead the Templars to him? Was he a bad guy? Should he trust him? Would he help him escape? Shaun had thousands of possibilities of his identity to Desmond – he was the mystery man of the hour. But what was constantly on his mind was the night before – how much he had _liked_ it. Never before had he thought of a man that way, not even _once_. He liked his breasts on long legs, not that he could mingle with them that often. But working in a bar gave him the perfect, free view of whatever he damn well wanted to have.

"We'll have you both up tomorrow to start running tests. Sleep well," a familiar female's voice cooed, holding Shaun by the arm as she pulled him in. Desmond sat up and looked at Lucy, who smiled half heartedly at him and spun back around, the door sliding shut behind her. Shaun's pants were ripped at the spot he had been brutally stabbed, his shirt splattered with droplets of blood and a single spot on his arm was a bright red from the burn. Desmond watched as he made his way to the bed, without saying a word, and sat down lifelessly on it.

He didn't know if he should have asked him if he was alright or not.

"Are you going to ask me if I'm alright or not?" Shaun sneered in his British accent, running his fingers over the mark.

"Are you ever going to tell me the truth?" He snapped back, feeling a bit of pity for the man in front of him. He wasn't sympathetic, he wasn't going to offer his condolence – he was just pitiful, with the way he looked. Underneath his pants, he could see through the rip in the fabric, he was freshly bandaged and he was in extreme pain.

"Look who's talking, _Mr. Greene_," he snarled, adjusting his glasses which had, surprisingly, survived the whole ordeal so far.

"You don't even exist."

Shaun snorted. Where had this Shaun's personality come from? Had he swapped brains somewhere? Wasn't he supposed to be some shy, cute little historian? Desmond couldn't exactly put together his inconstancies. So he was going to try and ask him instead.

Shaun beat him to the chase. "What the bloody hell is your problem? Why did you get us caught? Are you some kind of lunatic, asking for a death wish from Abstergo? Might you be mad and-"

"Are you a Gemini?" Desmond interrupted him.

"What the bloody fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"Multiple personalities. At the bar and back at my apartment, you were cute and shy – now, you're a dick."

Shaun laughed at his remark, gritting his teeth in pain.

"No, Desmond. I was just trying to... hm, lure you in? You seemed to go for the cute, shy and_ sensitive _type."

"I do not!"

"You went for me, didn't you?"

He had a good point.

"Besides, you... hm, intrigued me."

"What was all the shit about Eagle Vision?"

"Are you like a tiny child with ADD? Unable to concentrate for one moment?" Shaun sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably on the bed. He could feel the wound deep in his thigh – they hadn't given him anything for pain killers.

"Tell me. Start from scratch," Desmond growled. "Start with Abstergo. What the hell do they want with me?"

"I don't know, Desmond," Shaun replied, trying to keep an eye out for hidden cameras.

***

He couldn't exactly tell him everything he knew.

That would just be like suicide – if Vidic was listening in. They couldn't know he was the one spreading the news about the evil company, telling everyone to avoid it like the bloody plague. He had been voicing himself for once; that there was a huge battle going on between and good and evil, Assassins and Templars. If no one acted, the Assassins would be wiped out, an extinct race from society that they _needed_. Shaun looked at Desmond. How could he have been so god damn naive? Hadn't Lucy been messaging them secretly about a guy named Desmond Miles – Abstergo's next target? He had taken him to _bed, _slept with him and had literally almost been dragged out of the apartment by Vidic's goons. He had been stabbed in the leg, burned in the arm, smashed against the concrete and the list went on and on painfully. He was sore to no end.

He didn't feel like going any further but he had to. It was either that or death.

Reluctantly, he looked up at Desmond.

"Yes you do know!"

He obviously knew something Shaun didn't, and vice versa. But it wasn't like they could share secrets in their closed little space, regarded like guinea pigs after they've been given a dangerous chemical – waiting for them to rot on the inside. Of course, that's exactly what they were going to do. Load their brains with toxic bullshit and wait for one of them to crack and spill everything they had been told _not _to tell.

"No, I don't! Desmond, I'm just a normal guy!"

"Then what was all the shit about Eagle Vision?" He shouted and Shaun could feel the frustration radiating off him. "And you knowing what a _Templar_ is! Any regular person would have-" before he could finish his sentence, Shaun's fist collided with a loud _smack!_ against his nose.

That was it! He had a brilliant plan.

"What the fuck?" Desmond growled as his back hit the wall, covering his nose with his hand. He drew it back to find small splotches of blood and just as he was about to hit Shaun back, the man pinned him to the wall. "You have some god damn nerve!" He hissed between clutched teeth, as he tried to pry his hands away from Shaun, who had them bunched together over his head. "Let go!" Desmond shouted, following with a long string of profanities.

"Shut the fuck up, Desmond. I'm going to tell you everything you need to know," he hissed into his ear, licking his neck slowly as a cover up. He could feel the man squirm under his hot breath, an arousal stirring beneath his jeans. Slowly, he let go of his hands and in exchange, straddled Desmond, being extremely careful of his leg, and began to undo his pants button. With the quick flick of a thumb, he had the man's jeans open and he easily slid a hand in, grabbing a hold of Desmond's length.

He moaned and Shaun leaned in, ears pressed close to his ear as he began to gently slide his hand up and down. "My name is Shaun Hastings. I'm an Assassin, just like you, Desmond _Miles_."

"How did you - _Ah!" _He moaned, biting down on his lip when he felt Shaun gently slide a thumb over the tip of his hard on. Shaun smirked and kissed him hard on the lips, praying to God that Vidic was watching them and he was making the old man uncomfortable. Though, he did feel slightly bad for Lucy, who would probably be watching their indecencies beside her boss.

"Lucy works for us, she's a double agent," he moaned into his ear, hoping it looked as if he was dirty talking to his man. "Though don't act like you know that. Abstergo is a company and they're looking for something – but we don't know what yet. They say something about peace, but their means about doing so contradict their goal. Just keep moaning my name."

"Nghn... Shaun," he groaned, toes curling in anticipation. It raised goose bumps on Shaun's arms and eerily sent cold chills down his spine.

"If we don't do what they want us to do, we'll be dead. So just play along and everything will end up fine. Lucy won't let us be killed," Shaun murmured, sucking roughly on Desmond's neck, smirking in self satisfaction as he found the man's simple sensitive spot. Desmond gasped and grabbed Shaun's shoulder – the bad one.

"Fuck! Watch it, you mindless git!" Shaun snapped, feeling his vexation shoot high and ebb away when Desmond whispered an apology and grabbed his hips, careful of his wound. Shaun's head was pounding and his thigh was throbbing, shoulder stinging but he still wanted to fuck the man below him. He wanted to take control, show him that he wasn't the feeble submissive back at the apartment, but more so the aggressive dominant. Instead he kissed him, roughly pushing their lips together as his stomach violently did back flips.

Immediately, he could feel his lust growing to a dangerous level. It was too easy for a simple minded idiot to get too wrapped up in something as tempting as sex.

Shaun kept pumping, his fingers slick with pre-cum as Desmond grabbed the front of his shirt, moaning louder than he meant to. "_Damn it_, Shaun," he growled, his voice husky and practically incoherent through his heavy panting. Shaun reached out with his free hand, painfully, and grabbed the back of Desmond's neck and smashed their lips together. Before he could shove his tongue down the other man's throat, he felt a large tremor from Desmond and all of a sudden, his hands were coated with a warm, wet liquid. Pulling back, he scowled at Desmond. Shaun wasn't a simple minded idiot.

"You could have given me a god damn warning," he sighed, slipping his hand back out. Desmond didn't even bother to respond as Shaun gingerly made his way to the bathroom and washed his hands copiously, trying to lean on the other leg. Slowly, he made his way back to Desmond, who hadn't even budged. "Lazy bastard," he said out loud and cautiously climbed back onto the bed and crawled over to Desmond, who finally opened his eyes.

"So... what's Eagle-"

"You'll figure it out," Shaun grumbled as he sat beside Desmond, giving him a bored look. He glanced down to Desmond's jeans, which were still wide open. With an irritated sigh, Shaun leaned over warily and zipped up his zip and did up the button as quickly as he undid it.

"But how do-"

"Just shut up for now," he sighed, giving him another kiss to silence him before.

"... You make no fucking sense," Desmond frowned, pulling away from him. Shaun took off his glasses, set them on his lap and closed his eyes. He was surprised to find Desmond awkwardly put an arm around him and pull him into his side.

"Tough shit." And with that, Shaun closed his eyes to catch an hour of sleep before Vidic appeared at their doorway with a devious grin.


	8. Hold Up, Can You Repeat That Once Again?

**A/N:** Well. To start this off, I am terribly sorry that this update took two months to get done. Two whole months. Gah! I'm really, really sorry and I didn't expect it to take so long. Everything's been so busy lately and school's coming to a close, so you all know what that means - exams! Yippie. Anyways, I hope you guys like this chapter because... well, I have no idea when the next update is going to be. I have plenty of other projects on the go - one including a very... interesting collaboration with Googleit6, which will be uploaded here eventually - and plenty of other oneshots that I'm dying to finish once school's over.

And a heads up; there's one paragraph in here that may... Ahem, disturb a few of you to your very core. My beta reader suggested I take it out - but hey, I like the gruesome depth of it.

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Chapter Eight, **Hold up, Can You Repeat That Once Again?**

Desmond lay with his eyes open and stared at the blank ceiling.

Everything he had just been told ran through the younger man's mind. How had he come into unknown contact with other Assassins and not even known it? But what if it was a lie and this golden pass was copper spray painted the colour of betrayal? He had no reason to trust Shaun Hastings in the first place; he had gotten them stuck in this forsaken place after all. And what had that been about Eagle Vision? It sounded like some weird supernatural power in those corny sci-fi movies Desmond had seen previews of, or just even on a poster. Everything seemed off and he wasn't feeling confident in the answers Shaun had given him.

It had been on instinct that he had affectionately put an arm around Shaun. He wasn't protecting the British jerk, but more so the answers that he desperately sought after.

Now, he pulled away, gathering in a sleepy clump by himself.

He needed more answers, but with the way the place was wired, he doubted he'd get them any time soon. He wanted to know how Shaun knew that he was an Assassin, what his position was in all the propaganda. He didn't exactly look like the fighting type of guy and it intrigued him. He wanted to know more things abAUout Shaun and his strange techniques to cover up the exchange of valuable information. Did he do that to everyone? Desmond shuddered and cursed himself for being so undeniably stupid. How could he have gotten himself mixed up in sex when he was supposed to be hiding? Running?

Instead, he was a simple minded idiot, caged under Abstergo's watchful eye.

The place was completely being watched over, not giving anyone a single moment of privacy. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to Shaun, whose chest was rising and falling slowly, matching the tempo of Desmond's own heart. Sighing heavily, he looked away, trying to remind himself that it was this man's fault for his capture. If he had ignored him, pushed him away, he would be back home, getting ready to rise for a new day - with tedious tasks that came with the secret life of an Assassin. It sounded ridiculous, but he ran away from it all and suddenly, he wondered if he was the first Assassin captured. Had these insane bastards captured others, taking them in for their own crazy tests? Suddenly, Desmond felt an instant wave of hysteria wash over him.

What were they going to do to him?

In his lifetime, Desmond had seen a few horror movies. Always rented under his fake name from the local movie rental store; he had used up plenty of nights in watching movies, which he had suspected the 'normal' people spent hours doing so with their friends – something Desmond didn't have. The mad, sadistic scientist traps his victims in the basement, waiting to tear them apart for his own mischievous plans, a scene extracted from any child's deepest nightmare. Was this is exactly like a horror film? Suddenly, a single movie's title ran through his panicking mind.

_The Human Centipede._

What if Vidic was exactly like that man...? He even looked a bit like him too – though perhaps older! The sudden thought made a cold sweat break out and Desmond immediately slipped off the bed, looking for any escape. He rushed to the door, trying to figure out a way to open it. He did so quietly, looking for any signs of an exit. But it seemed the whole place was rigged with sliding doors, something he wouldn't be able to open without a key card. Quickly, he scurried into the bathroom, eyes darting to every single corner, looking for a simple sign. A moved tile, a tiny secret lever or button- anything that would help him. Taking in a deep breath, he took a step back from the pristine shower.

There was no way out.

Slowly, he turned back to the bedroom, to find Shaun had rolled onto his side and was snoring softly. Heart beating heavily in his chest, he sat back on the bed. What could he do? Would anyone know about his capture? Would he ever make it out alive?

Time slowly ticked away and Desmond felt himself tiring. Gently, he closed his eyes, wishing to fall away into a sacred heaven, somewhere else other than the bleak Abstergo jail-like bedroom. He felt his heart beat slowing down to its regular pace and he was beginning to feel more rational. But still, the thought prodded at the back of his brain, telling him whatever he was going to do wasn't anything for the greater good. That he wasn't safe – but he wasn't in any danger either. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard the door slide open and he immediately opened both of his heavy eyes.

"Desmond Miles, how nice to see you once again," Doctor Vidic smiled coldly at him, grey eyes sparkling with a demented happiness that reminded Desmond of a murderer. "We've been looking everywhere for you! I had my men tearing apart the town looking for the infamous Desmond Miles, and boy, did they ever tear some places down. No worries, we'll fix them up as soon as our operations are done."

"Interesting..." Desmond replied dryly, sitting up. He glanced at Shaun, who was still asleep, unaware of Vidic's terrifying presence and the pain in his body. For a moment, Desmond was jealous of his ignorance. There he was, in dream land, while Desmond looked up to the tight face of an old man, possibly one of the higher ups in the facility.

"Though, I'm still curious as to who this interesting man is. A friend of yours?" Vidic grinned as he walked over to Shaun, leaning over him. Just as Desmond opened his mouth, Vidic's hand commanded him to stop. "It doesn't matter – he knows something that we need to know." He stood over the British man, staring and only staring, hands behind his back. Desmond bit his lip as he felt himself getting ready to scream, or jump at the man. He knew that wouldn't end very well – what with the big goons waiting at the entry doors of what seemed to be a laboratory. His staring caused unease in Desmond, winding him up as Vidic stared directly at Shaun's eyes, as if he were willing him to wake up. It had been one of the most terrifying things he had ever seen – definitely the creepiest.

Suddenly, he pictured Shaun sprawled out on the cold concrete floor, body bruised from a heavy fight. Mouth askew as he would try to wiggle away, caught in the corner as Vidic would emerge, his white coat swaying as he walked toward the trembling historian. He could imagine Shaun backing into a wall, a small whimper escaping his lips as Vidic crouched down, to be level with him. Shaun would jerk his head away as Vidic placed a single cold, bony finger under his chin, sending multiple shivers down Shaun's spine. He didn't want to picture Shaun getting violated against his own, strong will that was gradually chipped down into nothing by the harsh assault of the Templar's leaders. His naked body would be exploited in front of the doctor's eyes, much to his own sick desire to degrade the struggling man who was fighting for his life. Bruises would blossom cruelly from his torn up shoulder and the insides of his worn out legs- but in Vidic's perverse mind, they would be beautiful. As he touched it, Shaun would only be able to roll his head pathetically, as he groaned in his deep voice, almost a growl, for Vidic to get away. Desmond knew he would lose, be torn apart by the strong, steady hands, skin completely unwrapped, a disgusting mess all over the tiles. And the blood would soak the once pure white walls, staining the material as his body lay in a mangled wreck upon the floor. He didn't want to visualize it so vividly in his head, but he could.

"Ah, welcome back, mystery man," Vidic smiled, snapping Desmond out of his disturbing thoughts. Desmond looked over to see Shaun jump back, knocking into Desmond's leg. Shaun looked over his shoulder and instantly cringed from the pain. Desmond said nothing as Shaun looked back to Vidic, who was finally pulling away. "If you don't mind... I'd like to ask you a few questions. The both of you, while you're awake..." Desmond noticed something in his eye, but he couldn't exactly pinpoint it. But from a wild guess, he figured it was disgust.

"Oh, go ahead. Shoot, doc. It's my pleasure," Shaun answered sarcastically and Desmond felt heavy dread fill his stomach to the brim. He remembered that tone from their quick argument before their... "conversation" as Desmond preferred to call it.

"First off... More a command than a question, but from the people in the upper levels... They've asked me to tell you two to knock it off. None of those... morbidly disturbing sexual acts are to be done here. Do I make myself clear?" Vidic scowled and Desmond had to bite back a laugh. He hadn't actually thought they would complain about that, although, he had figured someone had been watching them through the few cameras scattered on the room's ceiling.

"Yes sir," Shaun replied firmly and Desmond scowled, looking down at him, where he had slumped down.

"Good. Alright – during those... sexual acts," Desmond noticed that the man's cheeks flushed the slightest bit whenever he mentioned it, "what exactly were you saying to one and another? We can't keep secrets around here." Vidic recomposed himself and stared at Shaun, who looked up at Desmond, who was looking back at Vidic. Desmond then cast his eyes down to Shaun, who sat up gradually, hissing through his teeth.

"He was just-"

"_Damn it, Desmond, you like that, don't you? The way I touch your rock hard cock... Oh? You want more? Oh fuck, I'll give it to you... If only I could fuck you right now, you'd be in ecstasy, sky fuckin' high,"_ Shaun suddenly spat out, making a pleasurable face to match his teasing tone. Desmond felt his cheeks flush a bright red, even though he knew that was not what Shaun had said at all. But then all embarrassment changed to hilarity as he watched Vidic's jaw drop, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Vidic cleared his throat, having been clearly tossed off balance. Shaun smirked when he leaned back into Desmond, nudging the man hard in the stomach. Desmond winced but slowly wrapped his arms around him, very reluctantly doing so. Though, he had to give Shaun props for pulling that off – he was an absolute fucking genius for that. As for this plan, a small gesture of affection, he knew that it was completely unnecessary. Though, he had to comply – what else could he have done? Desmond hoped that he was looking fine, not awkward in the slightest. He was holding a man he knew nothing about in his arms tenderly. Shaun was indeed the '_mystery man'_.

"_Well_... " Desmond could see that Vidic had no idea where to continue, his plan of high class being blown right out the water.

"Oi! I wasn't done you stupid wanker. Where was I...? Oh, right. _Oh!_ _Desmond, I-_"

"That's quite enough!" Vidic interrupted, scowling as he held up a hand. Shaun smirked and Desmond reminded himself to ask Shaun to finish that sentence for him later. Then he suddenly wondered why he wanted to hear the historian finish it. "You two, get out there – you both have tests to take," he huffed and immediately turned to the door. It slid back open for him and remained open for the both of them to go through.

"Get off me," Desmond mumbled, not batting an eye when Shaun gave him a confused look. Slowly but surely, Shaun slid off him and managed to limp to the door. Desmond sighed and got up and followed behind him, eyes glancing around the large open space. He quickly noticed that the two bulky men were guarding the way out and they didn't look like they were budging at all. Subtly, he looked over at Lucy, who was typing behind her computer. She was pretty, Desmond knew that. Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat bun and her blue eyes were kind and she looked so out of place in Abstergo, from what Desmond had seen. Maybe Shaun had been right about the double agent. For a moment, Desmond wanted to press himself up against the glass windows which replaced the walls, and peer over the streets of wherever he may be. He wanted to look at all the people below him, and be among those lucky, free and unbound crowds.

"Desmond?" Vidic called out for the third time, catching his attention. Desmond finally snapped back to reality and looked back to see Shaun and Vidic staring at him with their eyebrows raised quizzically. "Care you join us?" Desmond nodded slowly and walked over, looking for any signs of surgical equipment. He had forgotten to warn Shaun and he instantly regretted it. What was going to happen to them? Where would they end up? Who exactly was Abstergo and what were they trying to achieve? His mind pounded with question after question that he didn't have the answers for. He needed them and Shaun was his key to unlock the final mystery and its answer. He needed him, more than the historian knew.

"Yeah. What are we doing?" Desmond asked tentatively, looking at the large, light blue and grey machine in front of him.

"You'll be paying a little visit to twelfth century Masyaf, Desmond. As for Shaun, we have other... simpler means in store for him," Vidic replied with a slight smile and Desmond suddenly forgot everything that he had just thought about.

_The twelfth century...?_

"And this is the Animus. Welcome to the Third Crusade, Mr. Miles." Desmond glanced quickly at Shaun, whose jaw had gone slack for the same reason Desmond had just lost his train of thought. He looked back towards the sleek machine, imagining it from a terrible sci-fi movie. This was definitely _not_ The Human Centipede.

"What... what the fuck?"


	9. Not Exactly a Horror Movie

Chapter Nine, **Not Exactly a Horror Movie**

Shaun watched it all happen in a very, very slow motion.

One moment, Desmond was upright, questioning what exactly was before him and the choice of the doctor's words – and then suddenly he was running for the door, eyes filled with a lucid panic. Shaun moved, as if to catch up with him, but suddenly the injury in his thigh made itself very apparent and he crumpled to floor, accidently pulling Lucy down with him who had appeared at the last second. Falling, the blonde had tried to steady herself and instead grabbed Shaun's cigarette burnt arm, earning a very loud howl from the historian on impulse. Glasses sliding off his nose, he looked up to see an alert guard grab Desmond's wrist, yank him back and toss him to the floor in a cruel manner. He could almost hear the sounds of bone cracking and smashing as he saw the mix of agony and sorrow on Desmond's face – he had _actually _thought he had a chance to escape.

"Very good, Jimmy." Vidic smiled and turned back to Shaun, who was slowly getting back up with Lucy's help. Once he got back on his feet, he watched helplessly as the man tossed Desmond over his shoulder and carried him over to the giant machine called the Animus. Without much hesitance, the bulky guard tossed the man onto the lowly humming machine.

"Careful now! You break it, you buy it," Vidic growled, crossing his arms over his chest, watching Shaun out of the corner of his eye.

For a moment, Shaun felt like Desmond had gotten what he deserved. Had he actually planned to leave Shaun at Abstergo, all by himself? Sure, he would have been able to escape, but it might have been a bit more difficult with only one person helping. Shaun stole a glance at Lucy, who was biting her lip as she watched Vidic command Jimmy to lay Desmond correctly, so he could connect properly to the Animus. Shaun knew how that thing worked – but he wondered how Desmond played into all of this. The Third Crusade and the twelfth century?

"Lucy, take Shaun back into their room – I'll present him with his test in there," Vidic smiled, adjusting his blood red tie as he watched his assistant. She nodded and slowly helped Shaun back to the room, waiting for the perfect moment. The door shut behind them automatically and Lucy helped Shaun into the nearby chair.

"Shaun, what the hell?" Lucy whispered in a dangerous tone, causing Shaun to flinch slightly before he regained his composure.

"How would I have known that was the Desmond you had been looking out for? What do you-"

"Rebecca must be going insane back at the stronghold!" She cut the historian off, lips pressed into a tight frown. Shaun didn't like how close she was to his face, that he had nowhere else to stare except into her worried, light blue eyes. That a loose strand of blonde hair was pulling his attention away only slightly. Sighing heavily, knowing she was breaking the man's personal space, she pulled away and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"What do you expect me to do about it? I'm stuck here, Luce, there's nothing I can do," Shaun scowled, clenching his fists tightly.

"Well Christ, you're an Assassin for crying out loud, you should be able to get out of here. Or at least wait for Desmond's back up-"

"Back up? What the fuck? I thought he was completely alone. What's a man in isolation doing with back up?"

"Sooner or later, the Assassins that watch him from afar will notice he's missing. They'll find him, they know who's been after him for the past few weeks," she made sure her back was to the camera, that they couldn't read their lips or hear their exchanged words.

"Lucy... do you really think it's safe to talk like this? I mean, Desmond and I had to cover up our conversation by - ... Er," Shaun suddenly trailed off, not exactly wanting to share the memories he had just created on the bed behind them.

"Shaun, what are you talking about...?" She raised an eyebrow, a strange curiosity shining in her eye. "What kind of cover up? And it's fine like this and besides, I can always go in and nab the footage. But... what do you mean... ?"

"It's, uh, nothing... I'm pretty sure Vidic threw out the footage," he coughed awkwardly, trying to direct his gaze somewhere else. Lucy just nodded as if she understood and like a sister, she could tell he didn't want to talk about it.

"So... How did you not know it was him?" Lucy asked in a weak disbelief, raising an eyebrow. Shaun sighed, thankful that she had leaned off the subject and he could distract her with something else.

"He... said he was Desmond Greene," Shaun mumbled, feeling embarrassment flush his face. Shaun Hastings usually didn't make stupid mistakes.

"I see," Lucy crossed her arms over her plain white blouse, still frowning slightly. "And... what was that all about? Blabbing to them about Eagle Vision!" Shaun sighed in frustration, mentally kicking himself for that one.

"Lucy, come on. They wouldn't have kept me alive otherwise. And it just-"

"You'd better be saying it stumbled out, Shaun. Do you want to compromise the Brotherhood? You're lucky he didn't just kill you on the spot – he knows_ Assassins_ have Eagle Vision!" Lucy spat, her eyes full of anger but Shaun saw what she was hiding. Fear that her cover would be blown, that both of them might just be taken out by one of the oversized body guards that protected Warren Vidic. Shaun didn't reply as he finally looked away, feeling an instant guilt weigh down on his shoulders. But it quickly disintegrated with the next question Lucy asked.

"How did... you two end up together? I mean, I heard a little of it..."

Shaun felt his cheeks redden and once again, he felt embarrassed. As he closed his eyes and remained motionless, unspeaking, Lucy nodded slowly, as if she understood. Before she could ask him in more detail, the door slid open and Vidic was holding a small white cup. Irritation was written across his face as he leaned against the wall.

"Well, Lucy? What seems to be taking you so long? I only wanted you to settle him down and then get back out into the lab to start up the Animus. What seems to be the problem?" He sipped at his coffee, narrowing his eyes at Shaun, who rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I was asking him some questions, Vidic," Lucy replied in her professional, business like tone. It was in complete contrast to how she had been speaking with Shaun. For a moment, he felt like a child; scolded by his mother for stepping out of line. But he was not a child, he was a mature individual who knew how to get himself out of tricky situations. He was an Assassin, for crying out loud. He didn't land his position by faffing about and cheerily eating doughnuts all day. No, he had gone through the hard, nitty gritty training of an Assassin. Similar to what the Assassins years back did, but a little easier on his physique. One on one, he could take. Two on one, bring it. But when he started to lose control of his senses, get distracted or had three massive attackers on him, he was lost. There was only so much he could do, what with spending more time with his beloved, exquisite, thick books rather than the local gym.

"Oh? What a professional approach, Lucy. We've already asked him questions and-"

"Just the _bare _minimum! I was figuring out more information than what you barely scratched the surface on!" Lucy snapped and Shaun had to bite back a laugh. She really was quite the Leader of Assassins in the area and Shaun admired her for that. Tough and not willing to back down from a challenge, Lucy Stillman was definitely one of the very few Shaun Hastings could respect.

"Well, this will tell us everything we need to know," Vidic dangled a piece of paper in front of his assistant and hostage, eyes sparkling with interest. Lucy tried to focus on the words but with Vidic moving it back and forth, they were only a blur. Even with his glasses on, Shaun couldn't make out the words until Vidic placed it on the desk and handed the man a pencil. Lucy looked from the paper to her superior with an eyebrow raised, fear in her chest.

"What is it...?" She looked at the grey haired man with curiosity, then back to the paper which Shaun started to observe.

"'What is Warren Vidic's favourite colour?'" Shaun read with disbelief. There was no joke – it was written in front of him with four multiple answers. It was like he was back in high school, taking a pop quiz that his tedious teacher would hand out every Friday. Lucy's jaw fell open with disbelief. Shaun looked up at Vidic, a smile on his lips. "Are you kidding me? A simple multiple choice question quiz and I'm out of here?"

Then it was Vidic's turn to smile. "Out of here? Whoever said that, Shaun? I'm very interested in what you said earlier about Eagle Vision. You are a gem and a smart man would be stupid in giving that up. I may have my blunders every once and a while, but I won't let this get past me. Just so I know you're not faking..." He looked down at Shaun and set his mug down on the desk, a silence lingering in the air.

"What?" Shaun asked as he slowly picked up the pencil, glad that the burn wasn't on his writing side.

"Just to make sure you're not selling us any bullshit... Get one question wrong and we'll... for lack of a better phrase, kill you," he laughed, clasping a hand on the man's shoulder. Suddenly, Shaun felt his mind go blank and everything around him fell apart. With a heavy lump in his throat, he looked over at the paper, hoping to see the different array of colours he would see on his texts back at the stronghold.

Instead, he was met with a plain black and white sheet of paper, void of any lively colours.

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**A/N: **Whew! I got that done fast. And I think that's the last you'll see for a very, very, long time. I just... kind of lost all inspiration in this story and I had to really, really, force myself to write this chapter. It's small and it's barely anything and for that, I apologise. I just... sat down and thought about this story. And I thought, where the hell is this going? I'm trying hard to do well but, I just feel like I'm not meeting expectations. It's slowly loosing its quality and I'm upset about that. I'm trying, I really am.

So, while I wait for the inspiration to hit me like a brick to the head, you guys will just have to wait. Sorry! I hope you at least semi-enjoyed this. :)


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